


Embers

by OnBehalfOfTheBunnies



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 11:29:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12011796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnBehalfOfTheBunnies/pseuds/OnBehalfOfTheBunnies
Summary: One short post-5x23 possibility.(Already posted in Bits and Pieces as Chapters 3-6)





	Embers

**Author's Note:**

> This is already posted in Bits and Pieces as Chapters 3-6, I'm just titling and re-posting so it's easier to refer to. Maybe a word or two changed and some extra separators instead of individual chapters. Unbeta'd. Enjoy.
> 
> *Thank you tlh-in-tlh for the unintentional typo notification! I know the difference between loose and lose but spellcheck and I breeze on by when reviewing.

“Supply ship, Eastern shore, follow him–” I point at Slade, “Now!”

There are no questions. We run, following Slade’s breakneck strides, weaving through trees along what cannot possibly be a path. Samantha trips on a tree root but John grabs her, half carrying until she can get her footing and keep moving.

A thought has me cursing out. “Arte-Evelyn! We left her in that cage-“

One of the boys snaps, “He told you run, then there’s no time! Run!”

_No time…no time, but I can’t just…_ “The boat is east?” I palm the tablet that can help me get where I need to go. Evelyn, then meet with them, make a ‘shortest path’ through the island imagery. _Just in case…Just in case…Just in case._ “Curtis, take this!” he slows from the front of the pack, managing to grab the comms piece as I tap at the tablet, tracing out a path and breaking off at a run, “Get Samantha to that boat- I’ll meet you there!” There is half a second of protests, and I take on my best commanding voice, “Hurry!”

Slade yells out harsh instructions to Nyssa, then in long strides catches up, yanking my shoulder to navigate us, “This way Ms. Smoak.”

Our feet never slow, and they don’t follow us.

I try to think it out, how to disable the devices, I can’t type and run, but I can think. _I just need enough to make a safe space…if I can knock individual ones off the network of them…Pull the antennae off, if they can’t get the signal…_

As we crash out into the clearing Evelyn is kicking at the cage hard and fast, desperation in speed. She looks up with a snarl, “You just had to take my key, didn’t you?”

“You just had to be a backstabbing bitch, didn’t you? We didn’t have to come for you, but here we are, so shut up, you’re going to need to run.”

 “I have a bad feeling about this…” Slade’s voice is a low growl, “We’re not going to make it to the boat.” He eyes Evelyn as I frantically work on the devices.

_Just in case..._

Managing to disconnect the first from their network is the hardest. _That son of a bitch is smart, but I’m smarter._ After that it just takes about ten seconds at each, running an expanding circle to grab the info I need to break the individual ones, the network still refuses to go down as a group.

Slade grabs and lobs the ones I finish away, into the woods, Evelyn resumes kicking. _It’s a small circle, is it too small?_ My fingers fly, code after code. _Don’t think about the others…don’t think about them, they’ll be safe, they’re smart, they’re…Focus!_

There is a blast from far away and the tablet shows the start of a chain detonation. “God-!”

Slade takes down the lock with one savage kick that should not be possible from someone locked up in an ARGUS cell for any length of time. Pulling down his mask and dragging Evelyn out of the cage to the middle of the ‘safe’ area, “Smoak! Here,” His arm extends, “now!”

The world has gone crazy as I run to Slade, and he pulls us tighter, “Get down then pray to whatever gods you believe in!”

His body covers, wraps around us, Evelyn fighting him. “Relax! Don’t tense, it’s how drunk people survive car wrecks.”

“This is no car wreck.” He pushes us forward, towards the ground, sheltering with his larger frame…

I manage a tight, disbelieving, “Thank you.” As the nearby blasts throw us airborne.

Reality goes too chaotic to process with explosions and fire, and an odd metallic shrieking to understand what’s happening in a jumble of seconds before everything goes dark.

}]}———}>

A dull, raucous coughing comes from the dark beside me…I’m- _We’re alive?_ Breathing, that sounds like a good idea.  My ear rings, the other not much more than muffled hints, the effect making me feel like I’m moving. I open my eyes, staring up into a gray haze. _Where are my glasses? Is this a…a pit?_

Everything is sort of numb so it takes a long time blinking before realizing the crush of Slade across me is why I can’t move. The back of his shirt is tatters, fragments of Kevlar and a bloody scorching of blistered skin. “Slade?” No response. A quick glance around as thoughts start working, “Evelyn?” It’s hard to tell what’s around with all the shadows.

There. That’s her head…attached to her body, arms, legs, whole. Is he? Head, back- gross, so gross…protected…”Slade! Evelyn! Slade! God you’re so heavy.” No responses so I try bracing him and trying to wriggle out without moving him too much. At least he’s breathing, and based on the coughing from Evelyn again, she’s alive too.

It is slow progress, but once free I get a better look. I’m no doctor, but even I can tell his burns are serious and Evelyn’s leg is broken. The a heavily bleeding gash just above her hairline isn’t promising, a big chunk of his mask is missing, exposing dirty, bloody skin framed by the jagged edge where it broke away. Both are still out cold.

_There has to be something I can use in here_. Hunting through the rubble. We’re in a pit, a room that was exposed through the blasts, and debris. The collapsed roof doesn’t leave much in view, but the angle is good enough that later I think I can try to carefully, slowly, climb up to ground level. Framed by the edges I can see Trees burning, thick smoke full of burning leaves and fluttering ashes occasionally raining down soot and embers into the area around us. I salvage a dozen water bottles, and one of those thin, crinkly metallic reflector blankets…and a tiny first aid kit among the debris and useless weapons. It’ll have to do.

Downing one of the waters, I use my jacket as a bag and move everything else out of the mess and over to where the other two people lay. “I’m going to rinse your back.” I say to the unconscious psychopath who inexplicably just saved my life. Nicking one of the water bottles, and quickly getting the dirt and blood off my hands before I dribble it gently as I can to clean the damage. There’s not much I can do for it…cleaner, the big bits of _not him_ picked away. Unfolding one of the few gauze pads as wide as it will go I spread a thin layer from the small tube of antibiotic ointment over it then cover most of his back. That’s about all I can do for him.

Evelyn is no more pleasant. The head wound had clotted before I worked on Slade, so rinsing it means I have to be fast. Ointment and gauze.

I was blessed in my life, as never having had to try and set a broken bone. _John would know what to do…He wouldn’t be gagging just trying to- Ugh! No. no, don’t commit that feeling to memory!_ The bone edges sort of puzzle piece against each other so the leg looks mostly straight. Dry heaves are not aided by the disorientation of my messed up ears.

Looking up, I see my next task. If I don’t get those things away from the edge they’re going to come crashing in and that’s going to be more problems. Grabbing my jacket and Slade’s sword from where I used it on the water bottles, I crawl up and get my first glance at the decimated forest.

The smell of forest fires is sharp and overwhelming, no signs of life anywhere amid the still burning trees or the polluted skies. I use my jacket to grab and move the smoldering debris from the edges. Even with the water burned out, these giant chunks of tree are heavy, so I hack at them and when that fails, try to use the sword as a lever. Like everything else since the blasts started it’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do.

My voice is rough, but _talking to myself_ is slightly more reassuring than just _thinking to myself_ , “Ok. We lived.” _The others…_ “We’re trapped, but those can’t burn forever. ARGUS, Oliver, will come.” _Unless they’re already out here?_

I take a deep breath but end up coughing and choking on the smoke. _Bad idea_.

Covering my face with the edge of my shirt I try again, doing a little better before yelling out, “Hello?” …Silence. “Help?” …Still nothing. It’s still light, they wouldn’t have had enough time to find the others and find us yet. _Wait…what was that?_ The groan comes again from down the hole

I skid-scramble, but not fall, back down. Evelyn wants to fight; only the damage to her leg keeps her mostly still. Her slurred insults become background noise, and I slump to catch my breath. Slade still hasn’t woken up and his back is hot, I’m not sure if it’s just from the burning or if it’s an infection setting in. I slowly pour another water bottle over the gauze, trying to help cool him down.

Evelyn says something stupid and my ability to tune her out snaps. “You shut your stupid mouth! We came back for you, so you’d have a shot at living instead of roasting alive in that cage. He didn’t have to help, didn’t have to shield either of us from the explosions. He chose to, so right now he’s miles higher on my list of tolerable people than you are.”

“If you hadn’t-“

“Shut up!”

It’s probably the concussion, and the words are begrudging and full of hate, followed quickly by an insult that I’m quite certain I’ve never been called to my face before, but at least there is a _thank you._ She falls into a petulant pout as only a teenager can truly perfect. I roll her a couple water bottles and hand off the thermal blanket and climb back up to take my frustration out on moving more embers and charcoal.

}]}———}>

Despite my efforts Slade is feverish by nightfall. The only thing creepier than spending a night in a hole with two very dangerous people on a deserted island, is spending the night in a hole with two very dangerous people on an _entirely silent_ deserted island. The occasional crashing thuds, as a tree breaks and topples, doesn’t count. I end up curled up around myself next to Slade, leeching his heat since my jacket is somewhere above ground and the only thing that will get me back up there before daybreak is the sounds of help. They don’t come.

}]}———}>

I wake to my own uncontrolled coughing. Hacking out dark globs of whatever my lungs can clear out and gasping for breath is not a pleasant alarm clock and defiantly doesn’t feature a snooze button.

I try to wake Slade, managing to get a single harsh groan, but he’s delirious. Trickling drops of water into his mouth I eye the dwindling stock but still rewet the gauze. Sweat gathers and trails down his face and neck, so I keep pushing the water, until I’ve forced about a cup into him.

My stomach protests the lack of food but even searching more near where the kit was doesn’t produce anything edible. I force myself back up.

The fires are out. _Think positive._ _The fires are out so we’ll be easier to find, to reach._ I look around the landscape of black and gray. _The explosions should have taken out all the landmines._ Nothing else comes to mind that can be remotely categorized as good. As a miserable icy drizzle starts I realize I should have included that it wasn’t raining. It’s not even enough to get clean-ish with, just enough to chill to the bone and make things slickly muddy.

I drag a couple more things to the edge of the destruction; it’ll be easier to spot a big blank than to spot an arrow…I hope.

}]}———}>

The rest of the day is a freezing coughing huddle, helping inch Evelyn over to share the Slade heat. She does not share the small blanket. I manage to get him to swallow an entire bottle of water, drop by drop. Night falls at some point, rolling in and out of a fitful sleep I don’t notice. Each waking breath starts to feel like I’m drowning, and I curl up closer with the two people who in recent memory would probably have had no hesitation in killing me. _We will be ok. They’ll find us…soon. They’ll be here soon…_

}]}———}>

Someone is calling my name. They sound muffled and miles away, but that’s definitely my name.

I drag open my eyes reality slowly kicking in. My voice is a hoarse whisper, “Slade?” I should say we’ll be ok, but that one word was a challenge enough. No, not Slade, I can feel the heat of him against me, the slight movements of breathing don’t rumble with the repeat of my name. “Oliver?” _He won’t be able to hear you, whistle…_ I try to clear my throat for a deep breath but end up in a fit of shallow gasping and coughing interspersing the high tone.

There is a flash of green at the edge of this…pit, and the noise dies on my lips. “Felicity?”

“Hey.” I rasp, stiffly trying to uncurl from the tight huddle against the feverish body beside me while Oliver skids down the slant towards us.

Hand on a radio he tells someone we’re here, alive before getting to the bottom. He almost scoops me up, instead stopping his outreached hands, kissing my forehead and trying to check me over.

“You’re ok?” We both say at the same time.

There is a pause, then he says hesitantly, “Felicity, honey, you’re looking rough.”

Ignoring the obvious truth of it I start, “I’m o-“ my body tries to invalidate my words with a coughing fit. When I manage to breathe again without gasping I turn to questions, my teeth chattering as I try to remember the important things, “William…everyone…did they-?”

“William’s fine, the team…mostly fine. They went to the water- I picked them up in the boat. They said you two…why would you-?”

“I couldn’t just… leave her in a cage to-” I wheeze, my breath stolen.

His hands, still gentle, tighten, the warmth only making me recognize it everywhere else more intensely. The words are quiet, “I love that you care so much, but next time go with the damn group!” He starts saying something, cuts himself off, then starts again, “We flew over this part a day ago, but with the destruction, and lack of bodies…we didn’t see this until the drone- your jacket…” _I knew I left it up_ there. His eyes stray to the other two down here with me then starts to work his arm under my shoulders.

“Slade, he- help him!”

“You first.”

“Oliver,” my hand rests on his, “he got hurt shielding me, please…don’t make me win this. Him.”

I push him, when he tries to protest again and start coughing when trying to argue more. He hurries up and pulls Slade up in a fireman’s carry.  Crawling up as he carries him, I slip getting an additional layer of mud painted along my front, nearly sending me sliding to where Evelyn still lays. Strong hands lift me up the rest of the way.

“You’re a sight-“ _John_. I hug onto him as he passes Oliver, who nods and goes back for the last of us.

Someone in an ARGUS uniform is looking over Slade in a small aircraft…not a plane, not a helicopter, something I’m too exhausted to make sense of. When I start coughing again, wet rattling aching worse in this position, John grabs an oxygen kit and fits the mask over my face. “Her leg…” The cool air is both horrible with my freezing body, and wonderful as it helps me breathe, I still feel like I’m going to fall asleep any second, so I strain and finish the half thought, “it’s broken…tried to help…”

I get a blanket, an IV, and space to curl up between friends. Two sets of hands hold mine, warming them from ice. _OTA forever_. I fall asleep before we even take off.

}]}———}>

We land on top of a hospital in China not long after and they cart the others off, approaching me with a wheelchair. Oliver, his green hoodie filthy from contact with me, sets me down but my fingers grab his arm before he can leave. “Let go Felicity, I’ll push.” Reluctantly I do.

I end up in a small room, the staff don’t speak English so Oliver is the one lucky enough to translate as I argue that I can clean the mud and ash off myself. “You tell them-,“ I have to pause to catch my breath. Having snatched a washcloth from one of the nurses, I go to town on scrubbing my arm where they want to place sensors, “I’m perfectly capable-“

He starts and they cut him off with words and motions, “They want you to let them do their jobs, they can check to make sure there isn’t anything that needs treatment while they-“

I speak over both of them while the plastic is pulled off a sticky pad and one of the machines to the side starts a quiet beeping, “I am able-“

He holds up his hands, saying something to them, telling me to wait, then gesturing at the nurse who resumes a fast monolog. “The doctor thinks it’s pneumonia.” _Pneumonia_? “All the smoke you were breathing in…” _Stupid pneumonia brought on by stupid smoke inhalation from a stupid idiot trying to blow us all up_.

I don’t let my exhaustion show, dipping the washcloth in the basin and continuing to clean towards my fingertips. Of course it’s a ruse, of course it would be easier to let them do it, but I _need_ to be doing something, _need_ to be productive and not show just how much I’m still freaking out on the inside. Hospitals are not my favorite place to be… “Convince her I can do this myself.” I say pointedly, smothering another hacking cough.

Oliver looks like he wants to be away from this showdown of stubbornness but speaks fast. The staff is not pleased. I get serious frowns and a long tirade full of gestures in my direction. He doesn’t translate, and I have to hold my breath to keep the next cough, desperate to get out, lodged in my throat.

Oliver chimes in with an exasperated response when there is a fraction of a second pause. Whatever he said does the trick, because I find the things I need on a small side table pushed up to me as they shuffle out.

“What’d you say?” I ask, tugging off my now brown-gray pants.

He turns towards the closed door, “I let them know how much experience I have losing arguments to you and how pointless it is to try when you have your mind set on something.”

“Are…are you trying to…why are you turning?”

“Just giving you some privacy.”

_Are you insane? You’ve seen-touched-more all of me…_ “Don’t be weird. Help with the-” I motion at the closure at the back of my shirt, trying to catch my breath again.

He does. “Want me to unhook…?”

I nod, unfolding the shapeless hospital gown. The pressure of my bra eases and the relief is like a blessing. Managing a sincere, “Thank you!” while he cuts the fabrics to allow it to pull off without taking out the IV and monitor leads.

Oliver takes the second washcloth and starts getting my face and neck while I clean my hands, both of us silent. He is extra gentle around the singed skin, and the abrasions from the crash, pausing each time I need to try and clear my lungs.

The thought comes up and I voice it without really considering if it’s an appropriate time, “Marry me.”

“What?” The panicked half smile, the fast glance at the monitors and IV, like he thinks I’m delirious and not really aware of what I said.

I made up my mind, if I got through this I would ask. “We can work on us, but I-“ more strangled gasping for air ruining the moment, “Marry me?”

His eyebrows scrunch together, “I’ve asked you that twice and almost fake married you once.”

“Me too.”

“We can talk about this la-“

“Oliver, marry me.”

“Is that a question or a demand?”

“Not really sure, both? There’s too much crazy in-” A fit takes me, until I’m dizzy and holding onto his arm to stay sitting up.

“Let me get the nurse.”

“I love you,” I gasp out, “More than love you.”

“Yes. Ok? Yes I still want to marry you, but let’s get you better and talk this out before-“

“I’ll take the yes.”

He kisses my now clean forehead, “Lean back, relax, I’ll be right back with the nurse.”

I get scolded, not that I understand, or that he translates anything but a “She’s worried you’re pushing yourself.” As if it takes that many words in that tone to say just that. A does of something is added to my IV and in minutes everything starts to go slow. I’m clean…clean enough, dressed, medicated, and buried under a mound of blankets of course my eyelids sink closed. Oliver’s hand squeezes mine as the nurse says something that doesn’t sound angry, “Your body needs sleep to get better, I’m going to go check on William. I make some noise of agreement and let the soothing call of sleep overtake me.

}]}———}>

I am woken by a voice against my ear. “I hear you wish to wed my husband.”

Blearily I open my eyes, “Nyssa?” _She’s ok. If she’s ok, the others…_

“I will say he and I share our taste in blondes.” She gives a feral smile. “You remind me of Sara when we first met, almost a childlike innocence. Lips press against my cheek in what can only be taken as a threatening kiss. “If you hurt him _You Will_ answer to me. The league may be disbanded, but there is nowhere in this world we will not find you…and you know the thing about assassins?” She continues through my wheezing, still noisy even if it feels so much less like I’m drowning out of water than before I slept. “We know how to kill fast, but we also know how to drag it out. This I promise you.” She ghosts a finger down my forehead, over my nose, across my lips, ignoring the coughing, “Keeping you alive will be no mercy.”

“Nyssa, what are you doing in here?” _Oliver!_ His footsteps are solid and have him right next to us.

“Just discussing how we plan to take our bride to the marriage bed.” She says it with a smile.

He frowns.

I keep coughing out my lungs.

“Nyssa…”

Her response is just as succinct, “Husband.” _I know he got it annulled before we even got to Ivy Town. She’s just doing it to get a rise. She’s pissed about something, why does that include me?_

“Please find somewhere else to be.” A politely phrased demand, with all the anger his quiet voice can intone, while placing himself between the pair of us, brushing a hand over mine.

When we are alone I manage to rasp, “Why’s she angry with me?”

“She’s angry with me.”

“Why?”

“I had to choose, and I chose one over many.” He runs a hand across his jaw, looking anywhere but at me, starting to pace the room.

“What?”

“He gave me a choice, everyone or William.”

“You chose your son. Of course.” I state the obvious fact, waiting for the reason she’s pissed. His head droops, still not looking at me. “Why are you acting like you were wrong? He’s the only one who didn’t choose this life.” I have to catch my breath for a second, “You made the right decision.”

His shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“Oliver Jonas Queen, you made the correct choice!”

“Not everyone survived.”

_Who?! No! No, don’t ask! It’s not real until…_ I can’t move over to him, “Oh Oliver… come here.” I scoot over, making just enough space on the small bed for him if we both lay on our sides. Pushing wires out of the way I wait only long enough for him to reluctantly lay down, facing me, before wrapping him in a hug. “You made the right choice.”

His face buries in my hair, hair that I realize was washed and let down at some point while I was asleep. The small trembles of his body, the grieving he will always hide from everyone…I just keep reassuring him, because it’s the truth. He made the right choice in a seemingly impossible decision.


End file.
